


Combinatorics

by BlossomTime



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, OT3, Oral Sex, tiny bears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 10:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9603116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomTime/pseuds/BlossomTime
Summary: It would seem that, mathematically, there are only so many possible ways three people can love each other. Turns out there are far more. These are just a few.





	

It would seem that, mathematically, there are only so many possible ways three people can love each other. Turns out there are far more. These are just a few.

  1. Mary will make a roast chicken for Sunday lunch now that it isn’t a ridiculous amount of food for one or even two to eat. Now it is a hearty meal and enough for sandwiches on Monday. 
  2. Every once in a while they’ll fall asleep three in a bed even though someone always gets too hot and kicks the blankets off and really it is a bit crowded. Being able to kiss everyone goodnight and stay is nice enough to make it entirely tolerable. More than tolerable. 
  3. Should they fall asleep three in a bed, sometimes two will wake up hours before it's time to get up. Then kisses can lead to tangled limbs and roaming hands and one thing leads to another. There is something wonderfully dirty about getting hot and heavy next to a sleeping lover, even though they wouldn't mind at all if asked about it in the morning. And much more often than that person admits, they're only pretending to be asleep and taking sneaky peeks at the lovely sight next to them and feeling somehow a million times more in love, seeing the two of them together. 
  4. There is something that requires careful positioning, but ends up with Mycroft flat on his back while Mary straddles him on her hands and knees and John kneels behind her. Technically, only John and Mary are fucking, but Mycroft gets to watch Mary's face transformed by pleasure without any distraction. She is beautiful. She gazes into his eyes and whispers his name. He is charmed and utterly entranced and doesn't feel left out in the slightest. 
  5. Mycroft packed sandwiches-- that he had made himself!-- and a flask of tea-- like something from a nineteen fifties children’s adventure story!-- for John to carry with him while chasing an invisible thief across the moors with Sherlock. There was a note tucked in with the sandwiches indicating that Sherlock might eat the egg ones if he didn’t know who they were from, but not the roast beef. Sure enough, the egg ones had vanished from his shoulder bag by teatime. Mary packed him a pair of military surplus night-vision-goggles, just in case. John ran behind Sherlock that night feeling very well-cared-for. 
  6. Mary likes it when John and Mycroft complain about their families. Harry completely forgot her parents’ wedding anniversary dinner and John had to smooth things over as best he could. Mycroft’s father goes on neighborhood strolls in the early morning, before it’s light, without a flashlight, without reflective anything, and without his phone and _what if he fell_? Mary’s family is still out there, somewhere (Manchester, mostly). When she was an assassin, it was better if they thought she had taken a job in Australia and could rarely get in touch. Then she left that life behind and made a new life for herself, a new life from the gap left in the world by a child who died. Then her old self had to be dead, too. Her family could never know she was alive, for their safety and hers. Now, though she can look at the photos her sisters put up on Facebook without them knowing, it makes her whole chest ache with missing them. But if she’s missing them then she’s still alive and they’re still alive and that’s the most she can have. So she smushes herself as close as she can between the men she loves and listens as they complain until everything seems bearable again. 
  7. The Southern (Southern US, not Southern UK) writer Roy Blount, Jr. wrote that the word _nekkid_ meant naked and looking for trouble. So what John is prone to is _rasslin'_ rather than wrestling. There is nothing of the Olympic sport to it and only a very little of the WWE or Lucha Libre sort. There are just times when his usual exuberant affection spills a bit into shoving and crushing embraces until he is sweaty and all worked up. John seems to think it is the sort of thing that might cheer Mycroft up when he is in a despairing mood. Mycroft suspects that he would have been put in a headlock by now if John weren't shorter enough to need a step-stool to do it.

Mary tends more toward assault-by-pillow and sneaky pinches, real girly stuff.

But neither Mary nor John grew up with a brother, much less a pain-in-the-ass much-younger brother who would follow you everywhere unless you took _steps_ to discourage him. They have _no idea_ of the apocalyptic roughhousing he can unleash. 

  8. John will spin elaborate almost-plausible lies to Mary and Mycroft will play along, utterly straight-faced. This is nothing they have ever discussed or planned. It was most of an afternoon that Mary believed-- incredulous, but still believed-- that there was a breed of bears on the island of Flores that through breeding in isolation and limited available food were tiny, the size of a loaf of bread. "They can be trained to live in your home, though they are never really housebroken," John told Mary while Mycroft nodded seriously over the top of the Financial Times. Weeks later, Mary still wishes Flores bears were real and that she could pet one. 
  9. One Saturday afternoon when John was slouched on the couch watching football on TV, Mary and Mycroft decided that it might be fun to try to distract him together. They sat on either side of him and kissed his cheeks, licked at his neck, and whispered filthy things in each ear. He ignored them, though he was clearly trying not to laugh. Mary snaked a hand down the front of his pants and John kept watching the screen, though he did let out a distracted huff of breath and held his lower lip between his teeth. Mycroft undid John's fly and pulled his jeans and underwear down below his hips. The two of them sat on the floor and both kissed and licked at his rapidly hardening cock. It was fairly inefficient, as that sort of thing goes, but did finally draw John's attention away from the game. He smiled at them, stroking and petting their faces. By halftime, John had to insist that somebody take the lead, because this was going nowhere. Mary licked the precome beading at his slit, slid her mouth down his length and sucked while Mycroft stroked his balls and kissed his hip. John's eyes fluttered closed, he moaned and came in moments. After, he agreed it was worth trying at least once and he and Mary had a go on Mycroft. None of them could figure out how it would work on Mary, so Mycroft went down on her while John kissed her and put his hand up her blouse. That turned out great. 
  10. They all enjoy that thing where they're all kissing and touching and it's hard to tell who is doing what and it's the tiniest bit overwhelming, but in a good way. 




End file.
